


holby city drabbles

by joshwrites



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bipolar Disorder, Consensual Sex, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Head Injury, Humor, Mental Health Issues, Mild Blood, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8501542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshwrites/pseuds/joshwrites
Summary: Just a collection of drabbles based on prompts I get on Tumblr. Very well may be multiple pairings.





	1. Stay Awake

**Author's Note:**

> If there is any triggering material I will also put a warning at the beginning of the story so you can skip it if you want. You can leave me requests/prompts in the comments or over on my tumblr - bradleyfine.tumblr.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Stay Awake." - Jasia

****Jac didn’t see what happened but what she did see was Zosia laying on the ground not far from the doors of Albie’s with blood appearing on her forehead. Her heart momentarily stopped as she automatically thought the worst. What had caused Zosia to fall? How badly had she hit her head? She figured she had gotten too drunk (again) and tripped over or something. This was starting to become a bit of a worrying habit. Zosia had been taking things hard lately, with the breakdown of her bi-polar and then the attack by Tristan had escalated things even further. She’s been trying to be there for the junior doctor as much as she can but she’s not able to be there 24/7, especially with her joint custody responsibilities of her daughter.  
  
Not giving herself any more time to worry she rushed over to Zosia, picking her up in her arms and leaning her against her chest. She was unconscious. Shit.  
  
“Zosia, you need to wake up!” She called, frantically tapping the side of her face to try and rouse her. She needed her to regain her consciousness because the longer she was under the worse her situation would become.  
  
“Zosia!” She spoke a little louder this time and breathed a small sigh of relief at the flutter of her eyes. Good. She was coming back. “Zosia, I need you to stay awake for me okay?” Jac spoke softly but firmly. This was another thing she had begun to notice, she was softening around Zosia and she didn’t know whether she should be worried about that or not.  
  
Zosia let out a pained groaned as she fluttered her eyes open, spotting a blurry figure of red hair and sharp cheekbones. The pain she felt in her head was instant and all she wanted to do was close her eyes again. “Jac?” She asked, confused.  
  
“Yeah, it’s me. Just stay awake for me. Everything’s gonna be alright, just stay awake.” Jac inspected the head wound a little closer now that she knew Zosia had regained consciousness and wasn’t happy with the amount of blood that was escaping and travelling down the side of Zosia’s face. She swore under her breath before pulling out her phone and quickly called for a cab. It was times like this that she wished she had a car rather than a motorcycle. She needed to get Zosia to the hospital and quickly.  
  
“Ungh. Hurts.” Zosia whined, fighting to keep her eyes open. As much as she wanted to close them she knew she needed to keep them open.  
  
“I know, I know.” Jac shushed and hoisted Zosia up a little further, pressing her head so it was able to rest against her shoulder. “You’re going to be alright, just need to wait a few minutes and then I can get you back to Holby.”  
  
Jac knew that later once Zosia was all patched up and well rested she would be having a serious word with her about this. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. What was she even attempting to do, walk home? She sighed heavily. She wished that she would just call her if she needed help getting home. This wasn’t the first time that she had come looking for her and found her in a bad state outside the pub. She was reminded of having to rescue Zosia from Tristan Woods that first time, and a creepy chill travelled down her spine at just the thought of that disgusting little shit.  
  
It was only a few minutes later that the black cab pulled up and with a big sigh of relief, she carefully hauled the brown-haired F1 into the back of the cab, with some help of the gentleman driver. She told him to take them to the hospital which gratefully wasn’t far from Albie’s, she got in the back with Zosia, leaning her up right against her side and soothingly rubbing her arm up and down Zosia’s, noticing how cold her skin felt.  
  
“It’s okay, we’re nearly there. Nearly there now.” Jac offered a few words of encouragement but her mind was still all over the place, worrying about Zosia.  
  
Zosia mumbled something incoherently, her eyes half-lidded and Jac looked down at her with a sad smile. She knew she was fighting her hardest to stay on, to stay awake and not slip under and Jac not for the first time applauded her strength.  
  
They arrived at the hospital a few moments later and Jac thanked the cabbie, quickly slipping a note into his hands before helping Zosia out the cab. She wrapped one of her arms around her shoulders and wrapped her own arm around her waist as they walked the few steps to the entrance of the hospital. She had made sure the taxi dropped them off just outside to make things easier for them both.  
  
“Can I get some help over here, please?” Jac yelled over the hustle and bustle of the hospital.  
  
She watched as Zosia was immediately taken off her hands and taken away, she had to fight not to intervene and just do the job her damn self but she reminded herself that she trusted these people, she worked with them and they were perfectly capable of taking good care of Zosia.  
  
Jac let out a breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding, brushing her hair back off her face. What a fucking night. She noticed the blood down the side of her leather jacket but figured she could sort that out later. She grabbed a coffee from the machine before going to track down Dr March.  
  
She conceded she would be paying extra attention from her junior from now on to prevent something like this happening again, already making plans in her head of what to do next.


	2. Slow Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Berena and Slow Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sucks a lot and is a bit rushed but wanted to get it posted so here it is!

Serena had invited Bernie over for the evening and she couldn’t help but feel her stomach drop when she got the text back that Bernie couldn’t because she had made other plans. Serena bit down on her lower lip as she swirled the red wine around in her glass as her mind obsessed over what Bernie could be doing right now, who she was with. Serena groaned, slapping the palm of her hand against her forehead. This was ridiculous. Bernie could spend the night with whoever she wanted, in didn’t stop the swirl of jealousy in her stomach, though.  
  
Serena had resigned herself to another quiet night on her own, it wasn’t that late but Jason had already put himself to bed. She checked the clock on the wall and saw that it was 10:04pm, she pondered that maybe she should get an early night too but knew she would never be able to sleep with her thoughts so fixated on Bernie.  
  
She was just about to get up to go and top up her glass when she heard a quiet knock on her door, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Who could be knocking on her door at this time of night? She felt a small glimmer of hope that maybe it was Bernie after all. She quickly stood up from her plush couch and made her way over to her door.   
  
The smile on her face when she saw who was on the other side of the door was instant and she silently berated herself for being so ridiculously infatuated with the other woman.   
  
"I thought you had other plans?"  
  
Serena asked with a small quirk of her lips.  
  
"I did but I realised I’d much rather spend my night with you. Can I come in?" Bernie offered a small smile, his eyes boring into the dark brown eyes that were staring back at her.  
  
Serena stood back and opened the door further. ‘Of course.’ She grinned and let the other woman inside her apartment. ‘I was just about to pour myself another glass of wine, would you like one?’ She asked as she began walking towards the kitchen where she had left the opened bottle.  
  
"Love one, thanks." Bernie smiled, shrugging off her coat and pulling the scarf from around her neck to hang up near the door. She was relieved to be out of the cold.  
  
She sat herself down on the couch and waited for Serena to return with the bottle of wine and an extra glass for her.   
  
Serena sat back down on the couch and started to pour the wine in both of their glasses before handing the one for Bernie to her.   
  
"Thanks," Bernie smiled over the glass as she brought it up to her lips, her eyes never straying from the woman sat beside her. 

Serena sat back in her seat, her eyes flickering over to the woman beside her to find her eyes already staring back at her. She couldn't help the small smirk appearing on her lips as she brought her glass up to her mouth to take a generous sip of the dark red liquid.   
  
They sat like that for a while, just drinking and talking. Drinking and talking. Before they knew it, they had drained the bottle of wine and were giggling against each other's shoulders about something that probably wasn't very funny at all.  
  
Bernie perked up suddenly, standing up. She swayed slightly before holding her hand out to Serena. "Dance with me."  
  
"What?" Serena burst out laughing looking up at Bernie like she was out of her mind.   
  
"C'mon. Dance with me." Bernie wouldn't be budged, a large grin appearing on her lips. She rolled her eyes when Serena just continued to stare up at her, not making any effort to move. She reached down and grabbed Serena's hand, pulling her up.   
  
They both stumbled at the force of it before descending into more giggles.   
  
Bernie took the glass of wine out of Serena's hands before putting it down on the table and then took Serena's hand again and pulled her into the empty space between the living room and the kitchenette.   
  
"Okay, how are we supposed to dance with no music genuis?" Serena asked, laughter bubbling out her mouth.  
  
Bernie just simply shrugged with that same grin. "We can make some." As if it was as simple as that, and for Bernie it was. She started to hum under her breath, wrapping one arm around Serena's shoulder and placing the other around her waist.  
  
Serena snorted and shook her head but went with it anyway. She wrapped her own arms around Bernie and began slowly around the empty space with her.   
  
"This is so dumb." She muttered but that didn't stop the warm happy smile that appeared on her lips as she looked up at the blonde woman who was looking right back at her with that very same look.  
  
"Shut up." Bernie smirked, pulling her closer and swaying their hips together as she continued to hum a soft tune.   
  
Serena rolled her eyes and leant in to rest her head against Bernie's shoulder, closing her eyes and letting Bernie take control over their movements. She felt like she was floating. She didn't know whether that was the alcohol or this feeling of being with Bernie slow dancing into the early hours of the morning.


	3. I'm Getting Too Old For This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts
> 
> 24: “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”  
> 16: “You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”
> 
> Jasia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not terribly happy with this and I've not gone back and read it through so hopefully it all makes sense! I know the times are a bit mixed up but that was only to keep with the prompt! Thanks for all the lovely comments so far, it enourages me to keep going!

"Hello, Jac Naylor? I have got you down as Zosia March's emergency contact. Is that correct?" Jac blinked blearily trying to come around from sleep. The voice on the other end of the sound was a deep gruff male voice that she didn't recognise. She glanced at the digital clock sat atop her bedside table and noticed the red numbers read 4:21 and she quietly swore under her breath. 

 

“Uh yeah, that’s me. What happened? Is she alright?” Jac sat more upright, her brain finally processing the words. What kind of mess had that girl got herself into this time?

 

“Fine but she’s highly intoxicated and is refusing to leave the club which officially shut a half hour ago. Are you able to come pick her up?” He went on to explain that he had already tried calling for a cab but Zosia had just argued and refused to move from her position at the bar.

 

Jac let out a heavy sigh, bring a hand up to rub at her temples. It was too early for this shit. “Right. I’ll be there soon, just keep hold of her until I get her.” Jac demanded before hanging up the floor and letting out a groan. It was times like these where she regretted putting herself down as Zosia’s emergency contact but she knew she needed to keep an eye on the brunette. Dom was too busy wrapped up in his own grief of losing his best friend and Guy was about as helpful as a lead pencil. This was just her life now and she had to accept that. 

 

She had noticed that Zosia was finding it really hard to cope lately what with the trouble with her bipolar disorder and the guilt and grief she’d been experiencing with losing one of her best friends and not being there to properly say goodbye. It didn’t take a lot to see that the younger woman was taking it very well, she had taken to drink more heavily and more often and the thought that was becoming a bit of a worrying habit niggled in the back of Jac’s mind. 

 

It occurred to her why she should suddenly care so much for the junior doctor but she could empathise with Zosia, she had been through so many similar experiences and she had shut herself off completely from the world. She didn’t want Zosia to have go through that. She didn’t want Zosia to suffer all these hardships in silence so she would be there for as long as she needed her, both professionally and personally. 

 

Begrudgingly she got herself up and out of bed, not happy to be disturbed from her sleep but knew that Zosia needed her right now. She quickly got dressed, pulling on some jeans, a plain top and a warm jacket to put over the top. She grabbed her phone from the crumbled sheets of her bed and her keys from the bedside table before heading out. She was immediately hit with the frosty air of a cold November morning and a shiver ran down her spine. 

 

She passed her bike and headed straight for her car, the car that she rarely ever used but were helpful for occasions like these. She sighed as she started the car and made the fifteen-minute drive to the club that Zosia was apparently still at.

 

There was barely any traffic so it didn’t take her long to arrive, she looked around the nearly deserted car park, a scowl on her face. Zosia was sure hell going to feel the wrath of Jac when she had sobered up. This was not going to become a regular occurrence! 

 

She pushed through the doors of the club with a little more force than necessary, she spotted Zosia straight away. She was half slouched on the bar stool, waving an empty bottle of vodka in her hand and singing some kind of pop tune incoherently. God, she was in an even worse than she thought! 

 

“Fuck sake, Zosia.” Jac muttered under her breath before stalking over to her, her icy gaze fixed on the ever wavering body.

 

“Jaaaaac! Wha’er you doin’ ‘ere?” Zosia’s drunken yell made Jac wince. 

 

“C’mon you, you’ve had enough. We’re going home.” Jac spoke matter-of-factly prying her fingers off the vodka bottle and placing back down on the bar, out of reach of Zosia’s grabbing hands as she tried to claim it back. 

 

“Nooo. Wanna stay ‘ere.” Zosia whined, her face pulling into a ridiculous pout. Jac might have found it adorable if she wasn’t so bloody pissed off at this whole situation.

 

She heard the guy behind the bar speak a few words but she chose to ignore him, not really interested in what he had to say. 

 

Jac wrapped an arm around Zosia’s waist and with as much strength that she could muster pulled Zosia to stand upright, which was not an easy task. Zosia swayed heavily, tripping over her own feet and Jac swayed with her as she tried to balance both of them. “We are going.” Jac spoke with an authoritative tone, her voice leaving no room for argument.

 

Zosia seemed to give in because instead she just sulked, leaning her weight heavily against her boss as she walked them both out, their steps jagged as she struggled to carry Zosia’s weight. She finally reached her car and fumbled with the keys before opening the passenger seat door. She leant Zosia against the side of her car before dumping her on the seat, using her arms to push her legs in as Zosia proved to be very uncooperative. 

 

Jac quickly walked around to the other side, climbing inside and starting the engine. She cast a glance at Zosia who seemed to be in her dream world, staring out the window and tracing patterns on the cold glass. Satisfied, Jac belted herself in and drove the car out of the car park hoping to never have to see this place again. At least in the near future. 

 

By some kind of miracle, Zosia didn’t throw up on the short ride back. 

 

Jac quickly got her inside her own apartment, finding it easier to bring her back here than just dumping her off on Dom. 

 

“I want vodkaaaa!” Zosia exclaimed, waving her arms about wildly as she was dumped unceremoniously on Jac’s plush couch. 

 

“No Zosia. It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka. You’ve had more than enough of that tonight.” Jac spoke exasperated, pushing her red hair back and off her face as she looked down at the still intoxicated girl sprawled out across her sofa, trying to figure out what to do next.

 

She shrugged off her coat and stepped into the kitchen to pour Zosia a large glass of cold water, hoping it would be able to sober up the girl some. She stepped back into the living room and pressed the cold drink into Zosia’s hand. “Drink this. It will help.” The water slopped over Zosia as her arm wavered about trying to find her lips. Jac rolled her eyes and placed her hand over Zosia’s helping to guide the glass to Zosia’s lips. Honest to god, sometimes Zosia was worse than Emma! Thank god it wasn’t her night to have her. 

 

Within a few minutes and a few more fumbles, Zosia had drunk the whole glass down, Jac took the empty glass back off her and placed it on the coffee table. She looked back down at Zosia still slumped against the cushions and could tell she was winding down now, her eyes half-lidded as she blinked heavily.

 

Jac thought about just leave Zosia here and placing a blanket over her before deciding against it, Zosia could probably do with a comfortable bed to sleep this all off. Jac shook her head, she really was getting soft. She leaned back down and hauled Zosia back up again, she heard a slight whine coming from the junior doctor. She was clearly quite happy to just stay where she was. She half-carried her down the hall to her bedroom where she dumped her on the right side of her double bed. Zosia flopped somewhat dramatically, her eyes fluttering open and closed. She was clearly ready to just pass out. 

 

Jac sighed, realising she would have to undress Zosia herself as she was clearly not coherent enough to do it herself. She reached down to pull off the high heels off Zosia’s feet before placing them to the side, next she pulled Zosia’s body more upright so she was leaning against the headboard. Jac searched for the zip of her dress, realising it was at the back. She leaned Zosia’s body forward to rest against her before unzipping the dress. Zosia moved fluidly with Jac, allowing her to push and pull her body wherever she may please. She was only half-conscious and was too tired to open her eyes so just followed along with whatever Jac was doing. 

 

Jac reached down to the hem of her dress and pulled the whole thing upwards until it reached Zosia’s shoulders, she helped remove the arms before finally pulling it off and over her head, leaving Zosia in just her underwear. Jac laid Zosia back down in the bed and pulled the covers up until they were tucked just under her chin. God, when the fuck did she turn into Florence fucking Nightingale? 

 

She huffed out a frustrated breath before folding the dress up and place it on her dresser. She checked Zosia was alright before undressing out of her own clothes, pulling her pyjamas back on and getting into the other side of the bed. She was too tired to process the events of the night, she would deal with all that in the morning. She sent a quick text to Ric explaining that herself and Zosia wouldn’t be due in work today before turning her phone on silent and allowing herself to shut her eyes once more. There was no way in hell Zosia would be fit to wake up in a couple of hours with a clear mind and be able to work, and neither would Jac with the lack of sleep. She would use the opportunity to have a serious talk with Zosia about her recent behaviour. 

 

And with that last thought, she finally drifted back off to sleep, her back to lightly snoring brunette.

 

Jac woke up three hours later feeling as if she hadn’t gotten off to sleep at all. Her bones ached, her head pounded and she felt like she could with another 14 hours of sleep but Jac was not one to lie in. Ever. She glanced beside her and noticed that Zosia was in the exact same position she was in last night, fast asleep with little puffs of air escaping her mouth.

 

She watched her carefully for a couple of moments before figuring she better get up, she would leave Zosia for a little while before coming in to wake her. If she didn’t get a lie-in then Zosia wasn’t going to get one either. She walked into the kitchen, grabbing her dressing gown and tying it around her waist on the way. She put the kettle on and started to make herself a cup of coffee. She sat down at the kitchen island and drank it slowly, rubbing a hand over her tired face. When she had woken up she was hoping that the whole night before had been some kind of horrible dream but she had been sadly mistaken. 

 

She drained the last of her cup before getting up and pouring a large glass of water for Zosia when she woke up, she also grabbed some painkillers from her cabinet and brought them back through to the bedroom, placing them down on the bedside table next to Zosia’s sleeping head.  
  
Jac went back through to the kitchen and made herself another cup of coffee before making some dried toast for Zosia, she knew it would help her a little bit with her hangover. Once she had drunk half of her second coffee and finished making the toast, she put the slices on a small plate and brought it back through to the bedroom. She was surprised to find Zosia awake now, looking around the room bleary-eyed. She most probably couldn’t remember a thing from the night before, she did notice the two paracetamol and half the glass of water had gone though. She was secretly pleased about that.  
  
“Here, this will help.” Jac shoved the plate in front of Zosia, watching as she took it off her hands. She left the bedroom to grab her cup of the kitchen surface before bringing it back through and sitting on the edge of the bed. She glanced over at Zosia tentatively biting down on the toast.   
  
A small smirk appeared on Jac’s lips as she took a grateful sip of her coffee.   
  
“I don’t… what happened last night?” Zosia finally spoke, her voice hoarse and her hair mussed.   
  
Jac turned her body so her body was now facing the other woman instead of having to turn her head every time. “I’ll explain later. Eat up and try not to get crumbs all over my bed, alright?” Jac huffed noticing the mess already sprinkling the top of her duvet.  
  
Zosia rolled her eyes and realised even that hurt, god she must have hit it hard last night. “You’re the one brought me the toast.” She retorted, sounding like a sulky teenager.   
  
“Just shut up and eat it.” Jac shot back with her usual harsh tone.   
  
Zosia raised her hands in mock surrender, quickly finishing eating before taking a long grateful drink of water. She was confused and had many, many questions so once she was finished she placed the plate on the side and sat more upright looking at Jac with expectant eyes.   
  
Jac let out a long sigh before reaching over and putting her own coffee down on the placemat on the bedside table.   
  
“You fucked up.” She started before explaining the whole story.   
  
Zosia listened intently and by the end, her face was flushed a light pink, clearly embarrassed. “I’m so sorry Jac, I don’t know what happened. I just had a bad shift and I didn’t want to go to Albie’s and face people so I just hit town and… let go, I guess?” She looked sheepish and apologetic as she looked back up at Jac, her face unreadable.  
  
“This needs to stop Dr March. This is becoming too much of a regular thing. If you’re struggling you call me, understand? Don’t just drown yourself in the bottle. It doesn’t work and it’s going to start affecting your career and you don’t want that do you? You don’t want to lose everything you’ve worked so hard for do you?” Jac’s eyes pierced into Zosia’s, she had to give it to her straight. Give her some tough love to make her understand.   
  
“No… No. Of course not!” Zosia crumbled, dropping her face into her hands. She had never been good at asking for help and lately she had felt so alone. She didn’t feel like she could go to Dom or her dad or anyone. She felt isolated, alone. But thought back over the last few weeks and realised how much Jac had helped her. Maybe she was too caught up in her inner turmoil to notice but Jac had been there when nobody else had, whether that was just checking up on her from afar or holding on to her tightly as she broke down. Jac was there. She needed to be grateful for that and realise that she’s not really alone. She had Jac.   
  
“I… I’m sorry. Thank you. For everything. Next time I get like this, I promise I’ll come to you.” Zosia whispered, her voice full of emotion. And she meant it. She knew drinking until she couldn’t see wasn’t going to solve anything, if anything it would just make things worse.  
  
“Good. Now get yourself some more sleep. Don’t worry about work, we’ve got the day off.” Jac spoke, her a ghost of a smile appearing on her face before disappearing just as quickly. Jac stood up, grabbing the empty cup and glass before leaving the room. She was happy with how that conversation went, of course, it wasn’t over. There was a lot more ground to cover but for a starting point, that was pretty good.  
  
Zosia wanted to object, to protest and complain but knew that the conversation was over. She watched Jac’s retreating back with a slight mix of confusion, exhaustion and bewilderment. What the fuck had just happened? She tried to fight the tiredness but with only a few hours sleep, she struggled to stay awake. She grumbled, settling back into the bed and pulling the covers up and over her shoulders. She had a lot to think about and with that, she fell back into a peaceful slumber.  
  
Jac sighed, she leisurely got dressed within the next hour remembering to be quiet as she moved around Zosia’s sleeping body. She pulled on the jeans she wore the night before and grey hoodie before moving into the living room and opening her laptop, even though it was her day off she still had a lot of work to do. The first order of business, contacting Zosia’s psychiatrist. She needed to set up a new meeting and somehow convince Zosia to actually go. She would worry about part later.


	4. Bed Bumps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie gets hurt having sex with Serena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated mature/explicit for the sex. Just a short funny little drabble. Enjoy!

Bernie could feel the tingles that warned of impending orgasm starting at the base of her spine getting stronger with each strong thrust of Serena’s hips as she rubbed their clits together sensually. The gaining speed of each thrust also warned her that Serena’s orgasm was imminent as they were speeding up. The delicious friction between their two bodies was sending waves of pleasure all through Bernie’s body.  
  
“Harder!”  
  
Serena tightened her grip on Bernie’s thigh, her hips snapping as they drove faster and harder, panting heavily as she looked down at the blonde under heavy-lidded eyes.  
  
The two women were lying sideways on Serena’s bed.  
  
“Fuck! Bernie!” Serena let herself go, thrusting and rubbing deeper and harder into the welcoming and pliant body of her lover.  
  
Bernie gave in, the moans the only sound capable of passing her lips. The position her hands were in made it harder to push back onto Serena, so Bernie moved her right hand, reaching farther in front of her to get better leverage.  
  
“Oh, Bernie!”  
  
Serena came, pleasure wracking through her body and pulsing out her cunt.  
  
And then Bernie was gone.  
  
Panting, trying to catch her breath, Serena took in the empty space on the bed in front of her.  
  
“Bernie?”  
  
Cautiously Serna leant forward and looked over the side of the bed. Dark brown eyes widened at what they saw.  
  
Bernie was lying on her side beside the bed moaning. Only they weren’t the moans of ecstasy she’d been making moments before.  
  
“You fell off the bed?!” Serena roared with laughter, as she manoeuvred so she was sitting comfortably. She watched the blonde woman roll onto her back.  
  
That’s when she saw the blood.  
  
The gash was a couple of inches long just above her right eyebrow, likely from hitting the corner of the bedside table on the way down. Blood oozed sluggishly down the side of her face into her wavy blonde hair.  
  
“Shit!”  
  
Serna was off the bed and kneeling by the fallen woman before she realised she had moved.  
  
“Bern. Bernie! Can you open your eyes for me?” Serena asked gently, taking a hold of Bernie’s chin.  
  
“Se…Serena?” Chestnut brown eyes opened and tried to focus on the woman above her.  
  
“Bernie. How many fingers?”  
  
The answer took a minute to come.  
  
“T…two?”  
  
Troubled Serena frowned at the single digit she was holding up.  
  
“Slight concussion then. Let’s move you back onto the bed.” Gently Serena placed a hand under Bernie’s neck while the other wrapped around her lover’s wrist to pull her into a sitting position.  
  
It was a good thing the clinical lead hadn’t started pulling Bernie too far yet as the sharp hiss of pain that fell from her lover’s lips had Serena jerking back as if burnt.  
  
Bernie’s right wrist was swollen and starting to bruise.  
  
“Shit! You really did a number on yourself.”  
  
Slightly unfocused chestnut eyes met her own ones, and Serena softened at the pain she saw there.  
  
“You’ll be ok.”  
  
After a trip to Holby General where Raf put five stitches into Bernie’s forehead and a tensor bandage around her wrist after an X-Ray found that the wrist was not broken, just badly sprained, the two of them returned to their shared apartment, Bernie had moved in not long after she returned from Kiev. Much to Serena and Jason's delight. Serena was lying on the large couch, watching an old comedy playing quietly on the TV while Bernie lay sprawled on top of her. Due to the head injury, Raf had wanted to admit the trauma surgeon overnight for observation, but Bernie had insisted on going home. Thus it was up to Serena to do the monitoring, which meant waking Bernie every two hours. Luckily they both had the next couple of days off.  
  
Angling her head down Serena took in her lover’s sleep relaxed face.  
  
“When the bandages come off I’m going to make so much fun of you for falling off the bed during sex.” Serena whispered, an amused smile plastered on her lips.  
  
Reaching up, Serena flipped the blanket draped over the back of the couch over so it covered most of their bodies. Pressing an affectionate kiss to her lover’s forehead, Serena turned back to the TV.


	5. Of Bright Eyes & Pumpkin Scones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cute short Berena drabble. Complete AU where Serena works in a coffee shop and Bernie is her favourite customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing AU's, let me know if you want to see anymore and suggestions are always welcome!

1) There she is, the woman with the shoulder-length blonde hair. The one with the light dusting of freckles that could only be seen under a certain light and the bright expressional eyes. The woman who always orders just a coffee. 

 

No cream and no sugar, please. No muss, no fuss, no latte or frappuccino or double shot of espresso. Just a coffee. 

 

Her smile a bright curve in Serena’s life. 

 

2) There is still good in the world. After today’s order, the blonde woman’s finger brushed against hers, she watched the way her hand curled around her steaming paper cup, she lingers at the cream and sugar stand as she always does, emptying precisely one-third of a packet of sugar into her cup. She blows on the liquid before replacing the lid. Serena watches her lips pucker and part.

 

She always watches for too long, half the time messing up her current order. One small iced skinny mocha, two cappuccinos, one hot hazelnut latte with a double shot of espresso and extra whip - or was it without the whip? The blonde woman looks up as someone behind Serena grinds the coffee beans delivered this morning.

 

She catches Serena’s eye, pulls a beanie over her hair and watches the dark-haired barista (her) mischievously as she exits the coffee shop.

 

Serena completely stops whatever she was doing until her eyes can no longer follow her boots and scarf outside the window.

 

3) There are times where Serena wonders whether she’s stuck in some sort of dream. If not a dream then a time loop because she can never stop staring, never snap herself out of it. The same hair, the same order, the same lingering, fingers pinching a sugar packet and flicking it back and forth to get the sugar to drop to the bottom of the paper package. It’s such a mundane thing, but the blonde draws it out, makes Serena want to wrench that packet from her hand and make her own personalised sugar packets with just the right amount of sugar to satisfy the blonde woman. She wasn't so sure it was the wasted sugar that was bothering her though. 

 

But she doesn’t. She stands there, that’s her job. There are many requirements of this simple, routine job, but standing there while this is going on is the hardest of them all. Serena comes to ask ‘the usual?’ and comes to accept that the blonde isn’t disturbed by her staring or her stuttering or that Serena knows she knows that her order is always the one she never screws up. It’s not intentional really, just pure dumb luck.

 

Still, pure.

 

“I’ll take a french vanilla latte today. Iced please.” 

 

Serena blinks. But her order is already done. The coffee is burning through her skin, something she’s used to. The blonde winks.

 

 

4) “What’s your name?”

 

One stray blonde strand of hair pokes out from underneath her dark blue beanie. Serena turns away from her previous order, reaching into the case beneath her blindly for a pumpkin scone. The smell of ground coffee beans is sharp in her nose, but the blonde towering above her, scarf twisted around her neck, is the sharpest point of Serena’s day.

 

Serena realises her name is printed clearly on her name tag. Large, easy for everyone to read. She took the effort to ask.

 

There’s a line behind her and there’s that damned scone still in her hand, but in that moment it’s clear neither one of them care. Not about this shop, not about this world, not about their measly or exciting little lives. There is only the other. There is not even the coffee anymore, the aroma haunting her into her dreams, the headaches moulding permanent lines in her forehead.

 

What the hell? Be the good associate. Except it’s not quite about that. “I’m Serena.” She pushes a wayward strand of chestnut brown hair out of her eye.

 

She hands the scone to the person in front of the blonde. And she orders, like Serena said nothing at all, but there are hands stuffed in the back pockets of her jeans and she leans forward, over the counter, appearing excited about something.

 

Serena hides her smirk.

 

When the line dies down some, she realises there is a one-third empty sugar packet on the counter directly in front of her. With numbers scribbled beautifully across the brand name and a smiley face.

 

Serena nibbles on the remaining sugar as she hums along to the coffeehouse music playing above her head.

 

5) There Serena is, cleaning the tables down with a damp rag twenty minutes before the shop opens. She’s already double checked the cases to make sure they’re stocked full with all manner of pastries, extra on the pumpkin scones. The coffee beans are already ground and the soup of the day is announced on the board outside. Maybe she can sneak a coffee in before she opens the doors for the day.

 

There’s a knock on the glass. Irritated, Serena turns around to tell the kid off, maybe show him her pretty little finger.

 

The mystery blonde’s peeking in, hands cupping around the heavily fingerprinted glass. She knocks on the glass one more time, motions with her head down to a large piece of paper she’s holding. It reads: I’m Bernie. The kiss blown to Serena is the best part of it all.

 

Serena rolls her eyes, unclenches her hand from the rag and goes to the door to tell the customer the store is still not open for - she checks her watch - another fifteen minutes.

 

Of course, that’s merely protocol.

 

“I can be bribed with coffee,” Serena tells her as she unlocks the door and lets Bernie inside, away from the chill. It’s nice when it’s empty, nice and quiet, but Serena doesn’t mind a view other than the street for a change.

 

Bernie trades her scarf for Serena’s, wrapping her own around Serena’s neck tightly. Her fingers are like icicles, coaxing back to life Serena’s still soul.

 

“Good to know.”


	6. Indulgence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short smutty Jasia fic. (This chapter is NSFW so if that's not your thing please just skip this one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Established Jac/Zosia, drunk and horny. That's pretty much it.

Three shots into the bottle and Zosia’s feeling it hard and tight in her gut. She’s holding the bottle of Jack Daniels by the neck and pouring another shot when she feels the hand slide down her back, settling against the curve of her arse.

“Some of that for me?”

She turns her head and smiles, her tongue running across her teeth. “Depends.”

Jac picks up the shot glass on the bar and brings it to her lips, licking the rim of the glass before tilting her head back and letting it pour down, smooth and languid, her throat working as Zosia watches. Jac licks her lips as she finishes and sets the glass down on the bar, turning her head to meet Zosia’s eyes. “On what?”

Zosia takes a moment to remember as she lifts the bottle to her own lips and takes a shot off of it. There’s a party going on around them, but like all of Dom’s parties, they’re loud and obnoxious and dimly lit. Zosia doesn’t mind because she's used to it, she's lost count now on how many times she'd been dragged, forced to go to her best friend's house parties. But tonight she doesn’t feel like sharing this with everyone, with anyone. “On whether or not you follow me.”

She walks off, heat flaring in her chest as she feels more than sees Jac fall in step, all long red hair and tight jeans and some top Zosia can see clings to all the right places. They move through the house, dodging people, and Zosia keeps a tight grip on the Jack Daniels until they’re in a darkened corner of the kitchen, a small alcove that leads to Dom’s garage.

Jac crowds closer, wrapping her hand around Zosia’s wrist and lifting the bottle, wrapping her lips around the mouth of it and helping Zosia pour a shot down her throat. Zosia makes a low sound and tugs the bottle away, replacing it with her mouth, tasting the smooth sharp whisky on her tongue, on Jac’s tongue. Jac wrestles the bottle away from Zosia and places it on the counter and then backs Zosia to the opposite wall.

“So now you’re giving orders, Dr March?” Her voice is low and dangerous, dark as the night surrounding them. Zosia feels the heat in her chest slide lower, feels her body respond and groans, biting her lower lip as she rolls her hips against Jac’s. “Think maybe you’re overstepping your boundaries, don’t you?”

Zosia nods, exhaling shakily, enough whisky beyond caring. She slides a hand between them, letting her fingers press against the worn denim of Jac’s jeans, rubbing the seam side to side just over her clit. Jac hisses and Zosia smiles, leaning in to lick a strip of skin between the straps on Jac’s shoulder.

“Zosia. Stop.”

She doesn’t listen, and she knows she’ll pay for it later, which makes it even better, even more wicked. She slides her hand up and down, fingers pressing and pushing against flesh and denim until a barely perceptible shudder runs through Jac and Zosia takes it as victory enough to unfasten Jac’s jeans and slide her hand inside the open fly.

Her fingers find silk and then skin and then wet and she slides her other hand up to Jac’s neck, pulling her down, pulling her close. She tastes the whisky again even with the hard, biting kisses Jac’s allowing, sinking her teeth into Zosia’s lips like she wants to leave marks or draw blood. Zosia whimpers at the thought and presses her fingers deeper, gliding over Jac’s clit and the wet, warm flesh beyond.

Jac’s got one hand propped beside Zosia’s head, leaning into her enough to steal the kisses, to tell Zosia to stop, to threaten. Every word makes Zosia’s blood burn and she teases her short, blunt nail over the nub of Jac’s clit, her fingers working inside Jac in hard strokes, as deep as their position allows.

She nearly groans as Jac shifts, her free hand pushing her jeans down her hips slightly, allowing Zosia better access. She swallows the sound or Jac steals it away but Zosia doesn’t care because now she can feel muscles constricting around her fingers, feel the pulse of Jac’s arousal and Jac’s tongue is claiming Zosia’s mouth for her own, just like Zosia wants her to.

“Taste you,” Zosia murmurs against Jac’s mouth, licking at the parted lips and sharp white teeth. “Let me taste you.” She wants to sink down to her knees and part the flesh with her tongue, wet and pink and hot all around her. Jac laughs and shakes her head, the sound enough to make Zosia’s knees go weak, to send her down to the floor. She looks up, expectant and wanting, tugging at Jac’s jeans, fingers raking over smooth thighs until she can smell her, burying her tongue in the folds of flesh.

Jac braces herself with both hands, legs spread just enough for the tip of Zosia’s tongue, the thrust of her fingers. Zosia whimpers at the taste, headier than the Jack Daniels, far more intoxicating. She licks and sucks, fingers deep and hard until Jac is mewling above her, the sound like a low purr as she comes, coating Zosia’s fingers.

Zosia pulls back and smiles up, for acknowledgement, for approval, as she slides her fingers into her mouth, sucking the wet heat of Jac from them. Jac’s chest is rising and falling rapidly, and Zosia’s eyes graze over the hard nipples pressing against the flimsy fabric.

“You’re in a world of trouble, Zosia,” Jac assures her with a dangerous smile as she straightens and rights her clothing. Zosia can feel her own heat, her own wet staining her panties, wants to touch more, be touched. “Go back to the party.”

“But…”

Jac pulls away, turning back toward the gathered crowd and glancing back at Zosia – still on her knees – over her shoulder. “I warned you. Maybe next time you’ll listen.” Zosia's jaw clenches and she glares defiantly at Jac until Jac turns in earnest and smiles widely, watching Zosia's hand as it threatens to slide lower. “Don’t even think about it, Zosia.” She moves back and squats down, smelling like sex and Zosia’s chest flares with want one more time, again, still. Jac’s fingers graze Zosia’s cheek and she leans in, breath grazing Zosia’s ear. “Because I’ll know.”

Zosia knows she’s getting close to the edge of too far, but can’t care because all she wants right now is fingers, tongue, something inside her. “And?”

“And if you do, I won’t have a reason to.” She smiles and it’s full of promise – of satisfaction, of torture, of pleasure, of pain. And Zosia can’t fucking wait. “Will I?”


End file.
